


If I Only Had a Second Chance

by softforsummers (orphan_account)



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Charles Has Issues, Charles in a Wheelchair, Erik Has Feelings, Erik has Issues, F/M, Ficlet, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Post Beach Divorce, Post-Canon, Post-Cuba, Reflection, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 08:07:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16280789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/softforsummers
Summary: My favorite mutants reflect





	1. Nerve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank wonders if he should have been braver

He had a secondary mutation and an empty lab. It had been a week and his fur still felt itchy. As if his skin knew it didn't belong there. As if it knew it wasn't normal. 

He was used to working alone in the lab. The only other intellectual in the building was Charles, and he was better suited to dusty libraries and sturdy wooden desks. No, it was better for him to work alone. 

Not that he had a choice now. She used to keep him company now and again. She would sit on one of the immaculate countertops and lean over to see what he was working on. She would brush long blonde hair out of her eyes and tuck it behind her ear with a sly smile. He would enthusiastically explain what he was working on and she would listen raptly. Maybe she was only feigning interest. She was a good actress after all. 

In her absence he wonders how much of it was an act. It seemed easy enough for her to leave. To leave her brother. To leave the team. To leave him. 

Had she ever really cared? Was he merely the means to an end? And when the end goal changed he was thrown aside as if he never really mattered. 

Maybe it's your fault she left. Just a little.

He felt enraged at the thought of him being responsible in any way. He told her the ugly truth and he'd be damned if he carried around any guilt for it. 

You told her she wasn't beautiful enough.

Did he mean it? Yes. No. Sort of. 

She wasn't normal like that. She couldn't be brought out in public. Other people wouldn't think she looked acceptable. But despite that...

He remembered the last time they were together. Proudly blue and smiling at him in the hangar. The sun shimmering on her scales as they fought together on the beach. Her hair standing out vividly, beautifully, against her skin when she said goodbye. 

He would always remember her, mutant and proud. 

He was used to working alone. But the lab seemed too large and eerily silent. The countertops were bare and clean. The fluorescent lights reflected against them blindingly. 

Hank pushed his glasses up his furry nose. 

He had a secondary mutation and an empty lab.

And plenty of time to rework his serum.


	2. Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles wonders if he should have told them he loved them

For a telepath he could be pretty clueless.  
Everyone who knew of his mutation assumed he could just easily pluck the answers from everyone's minds. And he could. He certainly was strong enough to. 

It was ironic, really. They demanded he stay out of their heads then questioned why he faltered. Why he didn't know what they wanted. Why he didn't know what they were thinking. 

What were they thinking? When they left him lying there in the hot sand. When his sister abandoned him. When his dear friend walked away. He was useless to him. A broken object to be discarded at the earliest convenience. He was still wearing his helmet when he left. 

He hadn't known him for long. It should have hurt more when his sister left. After all it was his own fault. He pushed her to be normal, to conform to something neither of them ever really could. He understood her leaving. He would have left too had the roles been reversed. 

He would have left with him. God forgive him but he would have left with him. If his legs had worked and his heart had been beating he would have left with him. But instead he laid there, with more than his spine shattered, and watched them disappear forever. 

Why did it hurt so badly? He hadn't known him that long, really. Hadn't been blessed and cursed with his presence long enough to miss him this badly. It shouldn't hurt that the other side of his grandfather's chess board was empty. But it did. 

Because against all logic and sanity he had fallen in love with him. It was like standing on a suspension bridge in a hurricane. The only certainty was it would end quickly. 

Now that he was gone he wished he had said something. Maybe he would have called him awful names and been disgusted with him. That would have made it easier to bury this absurd hope that he would have reciprocated, and stayed. No, even if he hadn't returned his sentiments he would never do something so common. Chastising him for going against society's expectations is one thing he would never do. 

Deflect a bullet into his spine and abandon him, yes. Stoop to the level of the bigoted, brainless masses, no. 

Charles wondered if love would have been enough to keep them with him. If he had told his sister he loved her, if he had accepted her exactly as she was. If he had told Erik…

There are no true second chances in life. 

For a telepath he could be pretty clueless. But the house was empty and he had a second bottle of whiskey waiting to be opened. And plenty of time to drink.


	3. Brain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik wonders if he should have thought things through

Sometimes he was very thoughtless as a boy. It drove his mother insane when he knocked a glass off the table due to inattention. Or tracked mud on her clean floors right before Shabbat. He never intended to cause problems. He just didn't think things through sometimes. 

He could be very reactionary. That was another thing that drove his mama nuts. Having to stitch up a tear in his shirt because he got into another fight. Having to scrub the blood and dirt off his arms and face, and give him a long lecture because his father wasn't there to do it. 

Sometimes it felt like he was just chasing blindly, thoughtlessly after Shaw. The man who had destroyed so much of his life. There was no real plan of attack. No goal after he was killed. A suicide mission. 

But then he met him. Mr. Perfect. So morally upright and thoughtful, the pinnacle of pristine and theoretical morality.

He wished he could have him within minutes of them meeting. Thinking things like that around a telepath was dangerous, especially in a world where deviation was a crime. If he picked up on those thoughts it was over. He could kiss the CIA's classified files and endless funds goodbye. 

But it didn't stop him when he thought he could get away with it. Late at night when he tossed and turned in the hotel room next door. Moments when he could glance across the chessboard and just feel for the first time in forever. It was thoughtless, pure emotion, like so many other things in his life. 

He wondered what those rich brown curls would feel like gathered in his fist. If they were as soft as they looked. Those crimson lips that tortured him with asinine arguments and heartfelt promises. 

As long as you want to stay, this can be your home. 

Can I stay now? Now that I've torn us both to pieces and ruined any possibility of reconciliation? Now that I've turned your sister against you and abandoned you? Now that I've completed my mission?

He remembered pushing the coin forward into his skull. The slow and sinuous glide through his brain and out the other end. The feel of the helmet snug against his head. 

Protection from the worst thing his mind could suffer from. Without the helmet he could easily take control and change his mind. But it was more complicated than that. Just like all things between them. 

Even without his telepathy he could control him with a single look. A single frown or smile. A single touch to his arm or gentle exhale of his name as they sat quietly playing chess at night. The helmet was a telepathic barrier, but more importantly it was a wall to defend him from... All of him. 

He should have thought it through. Maybe he would have forgiven him for taking his revenge. Maybe he would have forgiven him for thoughtlessly, carelessly deflecting her bullet into his spine. But he would never forgive him for leaving. How could he? He had turned away, without a second thought. 

And now, as he lays in bed alone staring at the darkened ceiling, he wonders what Charles would have thought if he told him he loved him. 

Sometimes he was very thoughtless as a boy. He supposed some things never really changed. People never really change, even when given a second chance. A second chance at having a home, a family. 

But he knew whose fault it really was that everything was once again in shambles. The humans would always tear to bits everything they couldn't understand, just like in Cuba. 

Erik would make sure they didn't have a second chance. And he had plenty of time to plan.


	4. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven dreams of home

When she was a little girl she found a home. After running for so long, never finding anywhere to stay for more than a night, constantly fearing persecution. She found one with a British boy who never knew what it was to fear his own skin. To be turned away as a freak of nature. 

Now that she has the time to really think about it he must have known a little all along. Yes, it was easier for him to hide when he didn't have blue scales. But he hid too. She told him to stay out of her head, never fully trusting him. And he told her to stay blonde, never fully accepting her. What great siblings they were. 

She should have waited before leaving. She should have made certain he was safe, and healing. It was the least she could do, payback for all the hot meals and warm beds she had because of him. Even if she didn't think of him as a brother, even if she didn't love him, it was the least she could do. 

That turned out to be too much in the end. Instead of staying she turned and ran. Away from the brother who never believed she was good enough. Away from the would-be-lover who couldn't love her blue scales. Away from all the people who tried to cover her up and tuck her away.

She hoped her parting words had some impact on him. She hoped he would learn to love himself exactly as he was. Just like she was learning to. 

But still the cause she was fighting for wasn't entirely her own. They insisted the world would always hate and fear them, that she would never be accepted. Wasn't that what her brother preached? Wasn't that the same idea that she wasn't good enough? What the hell would he know about hiding? Couldn't he walk into the grocery store unnoticed just like all the humans he hates so much?

Still, the idea of a world where she could freely walk about in her own skin was incredible. A world where she wouldn't have to fear persecution for her appearance. Maybe once the world was a little better she could go home. Maybe her family would be more accepting, and they would have a second chance at being happy together. 

A lovely idea, but things are never quite right the second time around. Like trying to recreate a freak accident that led to something amazing. When she was a little girl she found a home. Where for a while she felt accepted and beautiful. But of course things soured over time, and now she was on her own again.

One day, though, she would go back. Even after all that happened there's no place like home.


End file.
